Under My Skin
by Confessed Geek
Summary: "Harley's never-ending curiosity reared it's head along with her hunger for challenges. Because if the boy knew who she was and still chose to ignore her - then he certainly had balls." Where Harry captures the attention of the Queen of Gotham herself. Snippets of the interactions between Harry and Harley Quinn.
1. Pretty Eyes

**Backstory:** _After a year of helping with the reconstruction of Hogwarts, families that had been affected by the war and being hailed as the saviour of the wizarding world, Luna and Hermione were worried about Harry's well-being. Harry had been running himself dry; going to ministry galas and helping raise Teddy, despite suffering from insomnia due to trying to escape his nightmares. Luna and Hermione had finally had enough and convinced Harry to take time off and travel in order to get better for Teddy if not himself._ _Harry traveled around Europe for a bit before traveling to America; using practically no magic in order to blend in and keep a low profile. Of course, he ends up in Gotham - city of sin and violence - where he captures the attention of the Queen of Gotham herself._

 _Trouble would cross boarders to find Harry Potter._

 **Warnings!: Mentions of PTSD, Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Harry being a sassy shit, Grey!Harry, Dursley Bashing, Mental Illness (Depression, anxiety, insomnia etc...) Child abuse. Minor Character(s) death, Sexual innuendos/contact, Mentions of Torture...Shit is going down, just so you know. Not for the Faint of Heart. **

**Disclaimer: _Don't own anything from Harry Potter or Suicide Squad or anything related to Harley Quinn and the Joker._**

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 **Pretty Eyes**

When Harley first stumbles upon him - she almost walks by. The figure had been a familiar one, one she had seen at nearly every street alley in this part of Gotham - a young man leaning up against a building with his head bowed. Indeed, her blue eyes had skimmed over his seemingly too large worn jeans, long-sleeved white t-shirt that fitted only somewhat better and a mess of pitch-black hair. It was boring, common, she had almost turned away -

Then the young man had looked up, his eyes meeting hers and Harley sucked in a breath. He had the prettiest eyes. Even in the dark alley downtown in Gotham, his eyes shone like bright, glittering emeralds.

Oh - those eyes, they fit nicely on his face too. Even with the slight gauntness from lack of food and the shadows under his eyes Harley could not deny the loveliness of the boy's features. The strong jaw, the cheekbones - the dark pink pout of his lips against slightly tanned skin...

He was so lovely - so pretty even though he wasn't smiling.

Harley hadn't had anyone to play with in awhile; perhaps she could make him smile.

However, before she could so much as take a step in his direction, the boy had began walking off. Harley tried to catch up, but somehow she managed to lose the boy on her home turf. It irritated the Queen of Gotham - knowing her latest person of interest had evaded her. She was quick to shrug the feeling off though when her Puddin texted her to join him in a bank robbery, skipping happily in the direction.

The green-eyed boy doesn't come to mind until she is gazing at the Joker's hair with the sudden thought that the boy's eyes had been brighter.

 _H~H_

It is a week later when she sees the emerald-eyed young man again. His clothes are the same; typical of many runaways in Gotham. But they are also clean; significantly less typical. He is reading a newspaper, his teeth biting his lower lip as he flips through. Harley knows she ought to be in there somewhere, even if it is only a small section (though that is doubtful). She and her Puddin had pulled off three heists this week and had a nice fight with Batsy too; it would be a crime if they weren't in the paper.

Vaguely, she wonders if the boy would remember her.

As if to answer her unspoken question, his vivid green eyes meet hers even from across the street. They blink once, then twice before widening in recognition - his lips parting. Harley smiles and winks, a giggle escaping her as the boy glances down once at the newspaper then back at her.

Suddenly, his expression changes, and while that is to be expected , _how_ it changes is not - there's no anger or disgust in his gaze, nor is there any awe or lust. There is just... _annoyance;_ undisguised _irritation_ and Harley does not know what to think when the boy looks up at the sky as if to say: _"Really?"_

By the time Harley is able to get over her surprise, the boy had folded the newspaper and walked off - disappearing on her _again._

Harley feels the stirring of anger in her stomach. This was unacceptable. She was Queen and she ruled these streets - the people _bowed_ before her, especially the people who had never met her personally. And even those that didn't would never, _ever_ ignore her.

They feared the consequence.

Perhaps that's why despite her anger, Harley's never-ending curiosity reared it's head along with her hunger for challenges. Because if the boy knew who she was and still chose to ignore her - then he certainly had balls.

A smile spread across her face at the thought, a gleeful giggle escaping her. The next time they met - and they'd be sure to meet - Harley would make sure he played.

 _H~H_

There was chaos.

Wonderful, glorious _chaos._

It was in the terror of the tellers and customers at the bank. The lines of their face, the heaviness of their breathing, the sweat on their palms and the air _smelt_ of it.

She could hear Puddin laughing - hear a woman and her baby shrieking...

That sound was less pleasing.

Harley didn't have a problem with killing men or women (because she knew how dangerous they could be) but children had always been a no-go for her. Families even less so...

She had been a psychologist once, she had met with children who had been orphaned, placed in homes. She knew the terrible things that could occur there.

Apparently, someone else did too. She heard a unfamiliar shout, heard the sound of a heavy object hitting flesh -

The woman had stopped crying and she heard an unfamiliar, accented voice urging: "Go!"

The sound of running feet...

The sound of something heavy being shoved up against the teller's desk. Puddin had stopped laughing, but his voice still held amusement. "Trying to play the hero, boy?"

"You're the Joker, right?" The male voice said as Harley made her way towards it, bags of money in hand. "Well, I guess I know where you got that from - you're make-up routine is hilarious. Did your kids do it?"

Harley makes her way around the corner just as Mister J's grin drops, replaced with a murderous expression. What makes Harley nearly drops the bags in shock was that it was aimed at a familiar young man gripping at the Joker's hand on his throat, burning green eyes gazing at him with amusement that is expressed only in his eyes. "Are you suicidal boy?" Mister J inquires, unknowingly quoting Harley's exact thoughts.

"Nope. I've just got a condition: it's called 'The Saving People Thing.' Symptoms include: reckless endangerment of oneself, attracting trouble like a magnet and little to no fear of self-injury and/or death." The boy lists without care, accent making the words flow beautifully.

There is a pause. "So, you are." The Joker concludes, looking slightly less murderous.

"No - 'cause I don't intend to die whenever I get in one of these messes - I just _don't care_ if I do." The green-eyed young man corrects, looking serious. "Trust me, there's a difference."

"Well, as long as the result is the same - I really don't give a shit." The Joker replies, pulling out a gun and placing it against the boy's temple which makes him tense.

Anger floods through Harley - the boy was _hers_ to play with. She had seen him first. "Puddin!" She calls out sweetly, making both men turn towards her in shock. Happily skipping over, Harley shows him the loot. "We've got it all..."

"Great, toots." Mister J says excitedly, a mad grin spreading across his features as he shook the boy. "Let me just take care of this, then we'll go home..."

The boy lets out a groan of disbelief. "It's like Bellatrix and Snake-Face all over again...Only this seems to be consensual on both sides...weird..."

His comment earns him a sharp hit with the butt of the gun. The boy merely groans.

Harley giggles. "Puddin, do you have to kill him? He's funny..."

"He's a little shit." The Joker argues.

Harley doesn't back down. "Little shits tend to be the funniest of all."

The Joker seems to consider it for a moment, but then places the gun tighter against the boy's head. "Not if they have the hero's spirit..."

"This is officially not how I imagined my vacation -" The boy mutters, earning his head a harsh shove into the desk. "Fuck - I don't have brain-cells to spare!"

"I can break him." Harley whispers into the Joker's ear, hand resting gently on his shoulder. "We need more guys as ballsy as he is anyway - _please_ Puddin..." Harley purrs, feeling the man shiver beneath his jacket. "I haven't a toy to play with in awhile. Please..."

There is a moment of pause, then the Joker lets out a groan. "You're killin' me, baby." To her joy, he removes the gun from the boy's head, but keeps a firm grasp on his throat. "He's your responsibility - keep him leashed until you know you've broken him. If you can't - either hand him over to me, or cut him loose."

"That's the plan, Puddin." Harley agrees, her blue eyes meeting the boy's green with excitement, loving the defiance gathering in them. "But I'm sure I'll get to him."

The Joker grins. "Good." With that he hit the boy over the head sharply with the gun, causing his green eyes to roll back before he slumped against the counter.

Harley has the feeling it's the beginning of something amazing.

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 **Feedback is much appreciated.**


	2. Scars

_**Wow, thanks for all the feedback guys! I hope you enjoy this next snippet that takes place right after the first.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: See previous chapter.**_

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 **Scars**

After the boy had been unceremoniously dumped onto one of the spare-rooms bed; Harley had taken it upon herself to cover him nicely with blankets before looking at his bruised face with a giggle. "I'll get you some ice for that nasty bump, sugar." She tells his unconscious form, swooping in to place a kiss on his cheek before skipping out the door.

When she comes back, it is with a tray containing a bowl of chicken broth and an ice pack wrapped in some clothes. Humming cheerfully to herself, Harley sets the broth on the bedside table and takes the ice-pack in hand, brushing back the boy's hair to place it directly on the bump -

She stops, eyes widening slightly as she takes in the scar shaped like a lightning bolt. "That's neat." She notes, one hand still holding the ice pack in place while the other reached out, "What could've given ya this, sugar?" Vivid green eyes fly open the second her index finger brushes against the scar; a hand grasping her wrist to stop her from going any further.

"Don't." The boy gasped, his eyes wide and vulnerable as Harley gazed back at him in shock.

Shock she is quick to shake herself from. "Where'd ya get that from?"

The boy's eyes seemed to focus slightly at that and he let out a groan of pain, his grip loosening so that Harley could pull her wrist from his hold. "You kidnapped me?" He inquires after a moment. Harley frowns at his avoidance of the question, opening her mouth to repeat it when the boy cut her off. "Are you going to start torturing me now?"

"That's not part of the plan -" Harley says thoughtfully, blue eyes lighting up with gleeful insanity. "But if you're into that - I'm sure I can arrange it."

The boy's eyes widened. "You're fucking serious - Why don't you just kill me?"

"What's the fun in that?" Harley pouts. "Besides, if I kill you - your eyes won't be as pretty -"

"My eyes?!" The boy stammers. "You kidnapped me because you think I have pretty eyes!"

Harley lets out a giggle, straddling the boy as he began to struggle, her hand tangling in his hair to pull his head back. "Well, not just your eyes, sugar." She tells him, her eyes flickering over his face appreciatively as she leaned forward so that they were almost nose to nose. "You are a very, very pretty thing..." She purrs, batting her eyes at him.

"Won't your boyfriend get jealous?" The boy questions, a bite to his words that only serves to thrill Harley even more.

"Maybe - but I do what I want; go where I want - " with each statement she leaned closer, until her lips were practically brushing against his with every word she spoke, her body pressed to his surprisingly toned one. "Fuck who I want." Blue gazed into emerald intensely as the boy's breathing brushed against her lips; a strangely pleasant sensation.

Harley loved the disbelief slowly growing in the boy's eyes - the slight flush that was creeping up his cheeks and the heavy beating of his heart that she could feel pounding against his ribs. After his cool indifference, the sight of seeing him actually react to her close proximity made the blonde woman feel how she should - powerful. But even as she drank it in greedily; feeling the air shift with something new and _intoxicating_ that she could feel humming beneath the boy's skin, ready to lash out - it wasn't quite enough. Not for Harley who was used to having men practically drooling at merely the sight of her. So she leans in, fully intending to close the distance between their lips - to make this pretty thing with lovely, lovely eyes _want_ to submit to her...

The young man turned his head so that she got his cheek instead. "I admit, I'm not used to this tactic -" The boy muttered, a note of smugness in his voice as Harley pulled back angrily. "But, you're going to have to do better than that to 'break me'." His eyes had gained a steely glint to them at those words; his jaw clenched as his words became like icicles: cold, and sharp. "More dangerous people than you and your boyfriend have failed."

His blatant disregard for Harley's and her Puddin's reputation and everything they worked for makes Harley snap and she pulls the boy's head hard so that it slams against the headboard, knocking him out-cold.

"We'll see about that."

However, once the red-haze cleared, Harley could not help but ponder his statement - wondering who he could have possibly tangled with in the past to be so unafraid of her and Mister J and if they had anything to do with the scar. She was eager to prove him wrong - to make him bow at her feet and have those pretty eyes looking up at her in awe.

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 **Feedback is much appreciated.**


	3. Taste

_**Thank you guys for the amazing feedback!**_

 _ **This is a section of the next snippet told from Harley's perspective, since I thought that the events leading up to this scene and what occurs afterwards would be more interesting if told from someone else's. (Not going to tell you who - it'll ruin the fun.) So, technically it happens after the second one - but there's a lot of missing information that will be brought to light in the next one. Wonder if you can find any hints to what those missing events were...;)**_

 **Disclaimer: See first chapter.**

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 **Taste**

White-hot fury was pumping through the Queen of Gotham's veins as she pushed the young man against the wall, making sure to dig her nails into the soft flesh of his wrists so that she drew blood. With her body pressed to his she can feel very beat his heart makes - every breath he takes -

He should be reacting with lust with the way her curves push against his chest - should be in awe that she, a fucking _Queen_ , was giving him so much attention -

He doesn't even spare her a smile.

The thought makes her blood boil hotter; makes it just that much more difficult to stay in control of her expression as she is reminded of the fact that a simple, ordinary _bitch_ had managed to take from him what she couldn't with nothing but a few _words._

"If you ever try to escape again - I will _demolish_ whoever you are around." She hisses fervently, her grip tightening on his wrists to make sure the threat - no, promise sinks in as he stiffens beneath her, pretty, pretty eyes narrowing. "You're _mine."_ She tells him, the fact making some of the fire go away - a gleeful smile pulling up her lips...

He leans forward, eyes like Greek fire as he growls: _"You wish."_

Harley feels the muscles that kept up her smile freeze, feels the little bit of rage that had been swept away return ten-fold as they stare each other down, breaths mingling.

She feel's his heart beat: once, twice. She smells the light scent of whiskey on his breath. She sees the depths of his green eyes; all the emotions that linger there - the anger, the disbelief, the _defiance..._

She wanted to bottle it up. She wanted to keep it locked up and safe.

It was _hers._ _He_ was _hers._ He was hers to _bend_ \- _to shatter into jagged_ _shards -_

Briefly, she wonders if she's becoming obsessed with someone who would only be tossed away in the end only to shake the feeling off.

He's _hers._

She can smell him - the hearty spice mixed with the strange thing that she felt underneath his skin the first time they touched. She feels it now, beneath her fingers - in the air; a slight warning of power and danger...

She breathes it in at the same moment that he does - and her gaze falls on his neck.

 _Hers..._

Her lips touch his skin determinedly - smirking as she feels his pulse stutter. She hears him draw in a ragged breath and it urges her on - moving her lips up against the smooth skin of his neck and jaw to reach his ear which she tugs on lightly with her teeth. Releasing it, she pushes herself against him - a heated, breathless promise escaping her lips: "I will have you _begging_ for me when I'm through with you."

She retraces her path back down to his jugular, finding his pulse easy as is hummed beneath his skin. Her lips brush over it - reveling in feeling the hash beats -

She wants it for her own.

Her teeth sink in, and she tastes blood as she sucks hard - smirking at the way he spasms under her - his breath heavy and pulse racing. She moves along his skin - feeling more of that strangeness that seemed to live within the young man's very skin. She can't resist to slid her tongue over her newest mark - unable to stop the soft moan that escaped her at the taste. Smugness radiates off him at that - and to remedy it she makes another mark - viciously biting into the skin to feel his pulse quicken again.

Once that is done she pulls away to inspect her work - smirking at the lovely array of forming red and purple bruises on his neck - feeling that if for nothing else, at least her Puddin's absence allowed for this. Her satisfaction grows at seeing the blush to the boy's cheeks and his dazed eyes; running a finger over the bruises happily, even as she pouts: "These will only last a little over a week..." An idea comes to her then; one that would ensure that other people would know who this pretty, defiant thing belonged to even if he continued to deny it. Giddy, she giggles: "But by then you'll have a more permanent collar."

The haze clears from his eyes - his body stiffening as he growls: "I'm _not_ your toy..."

Not interested in hearing him after her victory, she simply delivers a sharp right hook to his face. As he slumps over her shoulder, she whispers one last thing: "You're also my prize."

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 ** _Poor Harry, he just keeps getting knocked out and felt up in a power-play..._**

 _ **Feedback is greatly appreciated.**_


	4. Escapes

_**Wow! Thank you guys for all the favorites and follows! As promised - here is the events leading up to - and after the previous chapter.**_

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 **Escapes**

The boy's first attempt to escape happens as soon as he awakens again. Frost reported that as he came with the boy's breakfast - he noticed he couldn't unlock the door. When he kicked it down - he was stunned to see the boy's fingers gripping the edge of what was supposed to be a sealed window still before they disappeared. Frost had run over, baffled to see that the young man had managed to land on someone else's balcony one floor down. The boy had looked at him and grinned, saluting with two fingers before walking into the apartment.

Two minutes later - one of Frost's men stood at the door sporting several bruises and holding up an significantly less hammered green-eyed young man. He lived across the hall from Buddy, who was lying unconscious in his apartment.

Harley had the window resealed and barred, making the boy's eyes shadow with something unnameable even as he grinned widely at her glare.

 _H~H_

The second time happens only two days after the first. Frost remembers allowing the boy to come into the kitchen to get something to eat and hearing him mutter something under his breath before feeling something hard hit the back of his head. When he comes to - the boy is gone, and several phone-calls reveal that many of his men are unaware of his disappearance.

He had rushed to the door, intent on the finding the kid and beating some sense into him, when Harley came - her expression carefully sweet as another one of the bosses men held the boy in his arms, while she demanded how the _fuck_ the boy managed to make it to the _other-side of town._

To that, Frost has no answer and Harley puts a bullet in two of his men heads without so much of a blink. "Get more men to watch him if you have to - hell, have someone stay in his room. But make sure he doesn't leave - he's _mine."_

Frost isn't sure what to think of the fierce possession in Harley's voice, of the way she stands near the growing pool of blood with her gun still smoking in hand. He just knows that he better do exactly what his Queen ordered - or it might be his head next.

Later, Frost checks his head for any bumps, and is surprised when he feels none.

 _H~H_

The third escape is very nearly the last.

Frost is cooking breakfast when he hears a loud _**crack**_ coming from the boy's room. He rushes in, not able to believe his eyes when he sees Jake - one of his best - lying asleep with no signs of escape anywhere.

He calls his men and have them searching through Gotham's many streets and alleys in seconds. With a nervous swallow he dials the Queen's number - ever so grateful that the King was away on business for two weeks.

The Queen - for all her insanity and love for violence, had a heart at least.

Although - hearing the sound of several things smashing over the phone made Frost also note that her heart had limits. He almost _hoped_ that the boy had gotten away.

By nightfall - it becomes clear that the boy is no longer in Gotham. They had called in every contact - searched every hole and gutter three times over. He wasn't in the city. When he broke the news to Harley - her expression became frighteningly blank, a bottle of scotch clutched in hand. He dodged just in time as it went sailing at the wall, smashing into shards. Her voice was quiet - dangerously so. "He wants to play hide and seek? All right - I'll play." A large smile blossoms onto her face, dangerously lovely as she breaks into hysterics "I'll win and take him as the prize."

 _H~H_

Three days later - they find him in a little town just beyond the boarder into the Mexico. It was a lucky break, really - Frost had called two days ago to talk to one of the guys he knew on boarder-patrol there when the man had suddenly paused and described the kid.

How the _fucking hell_ the kid managed to make it to Mexico in the course of two days without booking a flight (because those had been the first thing he and his men checked out) - Frost had no clue. What he did know was that the Queen had lightened up at the news - and had happily taken her seat on the plane, but not before telling him with her eyes that her 'Puddin' wouldn't learn a thing about this.

Frost knew why - the boss wouldn't have understood why Harley went through such lengths to find the boy - hell, Frost (despite admittedly being impressed by the boy's evasion of them) didn't understand it.

Nevertheless, he gave his Queen the word of him and his men that the boss would not hear about this. (Of course, he made sure that his men would inform him if they got wind that the boss was returning early) But, really, what was the harm in a little trip to Mexico?

He quickly learned to eat those words.

They find the kid in a bar - of all places. He's sipping at whisky directly at the counter, listening to the pretty bartender intently. Emerald eyes never stray from the young woman as she speaks, expression revealing honest interest as he tips the glass back and forth slightly. Frost is content to sit back and wait for the boy to leave; they have to do this quietly if they don't want the boss to hear about it. Harley seems to be in agreement - even if her blue eyes track the boy's movements from over her small glass of tequila.

Naturally, it takes a seemingly innocent gesture to change that.

The bartender says something, gently nudging the kid's arm and his response is a slight smile - curling up the corners of his mouth prettily and making his eyes crinkle while his free hand ran through his hair.

Frost's only warning is feeling Harley tense beside him as he remembered that the boy - though coolly polite when he wasn't being a sassy shit - had never once offered his Queen a smile.

Harley is by the kid's side is seconds, pressing her body against his back as Frost followed behind as quickly as he could without looking overly suspicious. "Hey sugar -" She purrs, just loud enough for Frost and the bartender to hear. A heated glare, and a hand trailing down the kid's arm pointedly makes the woman flush before turning back to the drinks. Harley leaned in closer to the now tense kid, her lips brushing against his ear, breathing out: "Come quietly, or I'll shoot her down." Her hand trails back up to his bicep and _squeezes,_ nails digging in. Frost can't help but wince at the treatment - sure that it was going to leave bruises as the black-haired young man nodded slightly before following Harley out of the bar.

Then, in a move that took even Frost aback, she pressed the boy up against the wall of the building, knee between his legs and pinning his arms with her hands. The Queen says something, but it's too low for Frost to hear - however he does see the way her grip tightens on his wrists as the green-eyed boy narrowed his eyes at her. She says something else - a large smile playing across he features which freezes when the boy hisses a reply.

For a second the two stare at each other, practically nose to nose thanks to Harley's heels, the tension so thick Frost was half tempted to look away.

He should have listened to his instincts.

Harley's lips descend on the boy's neck - the boy's wide eyed expression copying Frost's own. But Harley continued to place kisses all the way up to the boy's ear which she tugged on with her teeth. From his angle, Frost can see her lips move just slightly to say something into the boy's ear - can see her mouth travelling back down to where Frost could only assume the boy's pulse was, brushing her lips over it gently - Suddenly, there was a flash of teeth as she bit into the young man's skin and _sucked,_ making his eyes blow wide and his body to jerk in a motion that could have been to throw her off or an effort to get closer.

Either way - Frost knew that the boss couldn't learn anything about this or it'd be both their necks on the line.

He tried to turn away to remedy the situation only to be sucked in (no pun intended) by Harley's continued administrations along the boy's neck and jaw, getting a glimpse of the Queen's pink tongue as it tasted the boy's skin -

He was all too glad when Harley finally pulled away, her lips pulled into a smug smile at seeing the boy's flushed cheeks and the red marks on his neck. She traces a finger over them idly - a pout on her lips as she whispers soft words to the boy. A second later, her eyes suddenly brighten with laughter; lips moving soundlessly.

Whatever she says makes boy's eyes clear; anger filling them as he starts to speak -

The rest of his sentence is lost as she delivers a sharp right hook to his jaw, sending his head straight into the wall with a **_smack._** The boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he swayed for a moment before falling against Harley's shoulder.

 _H~H_

The next morning, Frost was helping himself to some coffee in the Penthouse's kitchen when the kid came stumbling in holding an ice-pack on his head. "Morning." Frost said in greeting, trying in vain to not gaze at the marks on the kid's neck. The boy returned the sediment grumpily, grabbing the newspaper as Harley came bounding in, pausing to rake her eyes over the boy's form with a satisfied expression. As if feeling her gaze - the boy spun around, the back of his shirt dipping ever so slightly to reveal some skin...

Frost coughed, nearly spilling coffee on himself as his eyes widen comically at the sight in front of him. Harley saw his reaction and winked - a wide smile pulling up her lips.

"What?" The boy's voice is filled with suspicion, every line of him tense... A few seconds later, his hand jerks towards the back of his neck, fingers just brushing over the source of Frost's disbelief and Harley's pleasure. The kid spins around, eyes wide for Frost to see, then sprints towards the bathroom.

A stream of curses follow that make Harley giggle as she helps herself to some orange juice while Frost buries his head in his hands - praying to God that the boss will never look too closely at the elegant black words placed where the kid's neck meets his shoulders:

 _ **Property Of Harley Quinn**_

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 _ **Feedback (constructive criticism, questions, compliments - whatever, really) is greatly appreciated.**_


	5. Similar

_**WOW! Thank you all for the amazing feedback!**_

 ** _Because many of you seem to have questions, I will address some of them at the bottom note._**

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 **Similar**

Harley's new toy refused to tell her his name.

No matter how many times she asked, no many how many times she tried to get him to slip up - he would just look at her and reply with a smart-ass comment like: "If you're Queen, shouldn't you know?"

It infuriated her; but also confused her. Because for all the young man's obvious distaste at the fact that he had been caught -over the past four days he made no further attempts to escape and continued to be extremely polite when she offered him anything. Always, always he would say "Thank you." Always he would eat everything that was on his plate and not complain once. Hell, he would even wash his plate!

But - despite all his politeness he still somehow managed to be irritatingly defying. And after awhile she became convinced that the only reason why he had not told her his name was because she had expressed her desire to know it.

He would accept everything she gave him - but he would give nothing in turn, not even a request.

So, Harley developed a new idea. If the boy didn't want to tell her his name - she would pick one for him.

"Hello Emerald!" she called as she closed the front door and bounded into the kitchen, causing the eyes in that exact shade to glance around in surprise before looking at her.

"Emerald?" He inquired in confusion.

Harley grinned, grabbing a glass from the cupboard which she filled with water. "Well, since you won't tell me your name - I decided to make one up for you."

The boy raised an eyebrow, unimpressed as Harley took a long drink, looking at him from under her lashes. "And you choose a color? All right -" With that the boy went back to the newspaper, flicking through it with ease.

Harley wasn't having that. Swallowing, she placed the cup down to continue. "Well, that's just one idea - another is Pretty Boy." No response, just the sound of another page turning. "Golden Boy -" The page turned, but after a longer pause, making Harley smile. "Scar-Face..." His shoulders had tensed, and Harley felt a rush of satisfaction.

"Really, you can't think of an actual _name?_ " The boy coughed, the slight lite of amusement in his tone washing away all satisfaction. "Scar-Face... maybe I should call you Hubba-Bubba girl." His green eyes look over her blue and pink ends pointedly making Harley fume. "It works for your personality too - overly sweet at first, then bland and artificial."

The glass shatters in Harley's grip. "Bland..." She repeats, making the boy meet her gaze - seeming to have no care at all for the broken shards of glass that littered the counter-top or her carefully constructed mask of indifference.

"Yep. You're not the first insane woman pinning after a guy with an inflated ego that I've met. It's shocking how similar you both are, really..." The boy hums, as if in deep thought while Harley's grip tightens on a large shard of glass so that hot blood runs down her hand.

In the back of her mind, she knows what he's saying is probably not true at all and he's just making it up to piss her off. But Harley hated being compared to someone, anyone else - let alone someone who the boy spoke of like he had beaten. Like she was just another in the long line...

But he was hers. His pretty eyes - even that smart-ass mouth were hers. He was her toy; her possession...

If the tattoo wasn't enough to prove it - then perhaps something else would.

A wicked smile spreads across Harley's face as a name comes to her, ordinary to signify exactly what he was yet still able to prove her point. Coming to stand right in front of the newspaper covering his face, she swiftly swings the shard of glass to slice the newspaper cleanly in half. The boy's eyebrows furrow, eyes flickering between the two halves of the paper until Harley straddles him and places the sharp edge against his cheek. "You know what else is similar?" She inquires sweetly, pressing just hard enough to draw a drop of blood when he didn't so much as look at her, her free hand coming to rest on his tattoo at his neck. She revels in feeling him tense beneath her, in seeing her blood drip on the collar of his shirt and his jaw tighten as she leans even closer still so that her lips brush against his ear: "The names Harley and _Harry."_

She feels before she sees the emerald eyes snap up to meet hers; pink mouth parted in shock. Harley's grin widens, and she uses the opportunity to press a hard kiss on his cheek; leaving an imprint made from her lipstick and his blood. Satisfied, she hops off and tosses the shard of glass against the wall with a wink. "See you later, Harry."

With that she happily skipped off to watch TV, feeling Harry's gaze pressing into her back.

* * *

 ** _Q & A:_**

 ** _1)_** **Will other characters from Suicide Squad/the comics/Cartoons get involved?** ** _Yes. I have actually already done research on a particular character who is going to be involved in a snippet or two such as their personality/relationship with certain characters. I won't tell you who - but you're free to guess._**

 ** _2)_ Will Harry's friends get involved/look for him? _Yes and No. Since he's traveling the world and the whole reason for it is try to get him away from responsibility for a while - I feel like Hermione told Harry to only contact them twice a month to tell them he's alright and to check in on Teddy since they would just be able to owl him in an emergency or something. So, Harry probably contacted them when he first got to the states (a week before he got to Gotham) and then again when he made it to Mexico. So Harry basically has two weeks before anyone's going to notice something's wrong. But knowing Harry, he wouldn't want the Joker to find out about his friends/family because then they would be in danger -_** ** _So his friends will be involved somehow - but how exactly ...you will have to wait and see._**

 ** _3)_ Will Harry stop being a 'little bitch?' _Yes - Harry is not a submissive person - it isn't in his nature. But Harley's use of sexual touching/situations is not something he's used to. (a.k.a he's a total virgin) Sure he had that awkward kiss from Cho Chang and had a bit of a thing with Ginny - but they were pretty innocent (he was too busy worrying about surviving the next few years to experiment/think about anything else. Plus, Harry is a sweetheart in general when it comes to things like that) But don't worry - he'll be getting more and more used to it and who knows what will happen then..._**

 ** _4)_ What is the time-line with Suicide Squad?** _ **The snippets started before the movie takes place and will continue during and post it.**_

 ** _Ok - I know those were really long, but I hope they satisfy (or further pique) your curiosity._**

 _ **Feedback of any kind is very much appreciated.**_


	6. Nightmares

_**I would just like to thank you all who have reviewed, favourited and/or followed this story. I'm actually surprised that it has gotten so much love - but I hope that I will continue to earn it.**_

 **Disclaimer:** _**I do not own anything of Harry Potter or Suicide Squad.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

 **Nightmares**

Two days before Mister J's return, she had entered Harry's room bored out of her mind. She wanted to entertain herself with _Harry;_ wanted to see if she could find what made him tick...

Honestly, she was surprised the boy hadn't argued with her on the name. In fact, he even _answered_ to it. It bothered Harley, for reasons she can only guess at. (She ignored the voices telling her that it was because it could be a sign of him beginning to bend, and she didn't want to let him go so soon.)

But the voices are persistent - so Harley lets out a huff and firmly tells them to shut up before opening Harry's door wide; a winning smile in on her face...

Which drops at the scene before her.

The boy was sweating, his breath labored and heavy as he twisted and turned in his sheets. "No, no..." He whimpered making Harley's eyes widen, allowing the door to close quietly behind her as she stepped closer to the bed.

"Not Cedric - don't kill Cedric! Mum - mum, help! Help! They're killing them -Sirius, Remus, Fred...Fred..." Harley watched with an odd feeling growing in her chest as tears began to stream down the boy's face and his breathing became more frantic - unable to look away. "Please! I'm sorry! I'm Sorry Colin! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry Tonks..." Then the boy began to scream. "KILL ME! JUST KILL ME! I DON'T CARE! I DON'T FUCKING CARE! LEAVE THEM ALONE AND _KILL ME!"_

Somehow Harley had reached the bed, her hands gripping the boy's shoulders in a bruising grip as she shook him. "Harry! Harry! Wake up! Damn it you ass, _wake up!"_ When Harry broke into incoherent sobbing, Harley straddled him, holding him up by his shirt collar with one hand and back-handing him with the other.

Two seconds later, Harley found herself pinned beneath the boy with his hands on her throat; green eyes burning with murderous sight makes her breathless with awe, blue eyes wide as he continued to hold her there - his grip unyielding. After a moment however, fear's icy hands start to claw at Harley's mind as the boy continues to stare at her with those cold, _haunted_ eyes.

What could have given a boy barely in his twenties eyes like that?

Harley wasn't sure if she wanted the answer.

Suddenly, the ice seemed to thaw from Harry's eyes and confusion replaced it. Then, he noticed Harley lying underneath him with both hands wrapped around the wrist attached to the hand at her throat. Instantly something else came into the boy's expression - raw, and unhidden as he practically jumped off her to land on his feet on the right side of the bed. By the time Harley sat up, he was backed against the wall, trying to hug himself.

"Are you Ok?" The boy asked after a few minutes, shocking Harley with the quietness of his tone.

Shaking the feeling off, Harley grinned. "I can handle a little bit of rough, sugar." She winks at him, but the boy's eyes snap up to meet hers - new fury gathering in his expression.

"This isn't funny!" He growls, the harsh tone making Harley's smile slip. "I could have killed you!"

Harley laughs at that: "Oh please. No you couldn't."

The laugh dies as Harry marches up to her, his five-nine frame suddenly intimidating as he looked down, eyes flashing like lightning. "I used to think the same way."

Harley blinks, curiosity raging through her. "Why do you care?"

"Why do I -" In a second, all the fury drains out of the boy's expression to be replaced by wariness and exhaustion; a change that leaves Harley speechless by the difference. He places a hand to his forehead and rubs exactly where Harley knows the scar rests behind his bangs. "If you don't know what a conscience is, I suggest you watch Pinocchio to figure it out because I'm too tired to explain it right now - but it's something that makes me not enjoy murdering someone who hasn't done anything to deserve it."

Harley processes his words with a frown. "But I kidnapped ya. I tattooed you."

"So what?" The boy grumbles. "You have also given me food, water, a bed to sleep in and you haven't tortured me or anything yet." He shrugs. "I don't like being here, or being your...'plaything' but I know it could be a hell of a lot worse. You even took the bars off my window."

He steps forward, making a hand motion for her to get off the bed which she obeys dazedly, wondering why it felt like his last sentence held something significant - like she was missing something. She is still troubled when Harry settles into bed, a yawn escaping him. "Goodnight Harley." The words give the woman the motivation to make her way towards the door.

Before she left, she had one last question: "Who were those people Harry?"

There was silence for a long moment, so Harley thought he had fallen asleep. When she opened the door, his voice cut through the darkness. "Some of the bravest people I knew."

* * *

 _ **Feedback (questions, constructive criticism, compliments about how awesome I am, etc...) is much appreciated.**_


	7. Wicked Games

_**Thank you guys again for all the great feedback!**_

 ** _Um - ok, I hope I'm not being too pushy or greedy - but I was wondering if anybody would like to create a cover art for this story...? I really wanted to do one - but, I suck at art. Really - I can maybe do a decent abstract but when it comes to drawing people stick figures is the best I can do or potato shaped people..._**

 ** _If nobody's interested that's all right - but if anybody is, you can leave a review or PM me._**

 ** _Anyway - hope you guys like this chapter! (I do ;)_**

 **Disclaimer: _I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter._**

* * *

 **Wicked Games**

When Harley tells her Puddin that Harry had not given in to her, but had only made minimum attempts to escape - he's thrilled. "Oh - you've got yourself a tough one, baby." The Joker states gleefully, running his hands through her hair from her spot on his lap. "They're always the best - especially if they're smart. They'll put up a hell of a fight - then crack like an egg when you find their weakness."

Harley giggled at the joy in her Puddin's tone, snuggling into him as she asks: "What'd you think I should do Puddin?"

"Hm..." Mister J hums, his finger twirling a strand of her hair around his finger as he thought. A smile then breaks out across his features, revealing his silver capped teeth. "He said he has a 'Saving People Thing' - maybe we should bring him along on the next job..."

Harley grins at the idea, turning to kiss his mouth. "You're brilliant Puddin."

"In more ways than one." He growls possessively, gripping her hair tightly as he crashed his lips to hers.

If Harley felt anything but pleasure in her stomach, she was quick to push it away.

 _H~H_

Her Puddin was right. That's all Harley can think as Harry fights Frosty and his buddy- managing to get in several good hits despite having a bag over his head as they try to drag him up to where Harley and the Joker stand in the now empty bank. Finally, Frosty - having a busted lip and a slowly forming black-eye - gripped the boys shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. "Feisty fucker." The man comments with a grin.

That grin is quickly wiped when the boy slams his head backwards into the man's groin. As he whimpered, Harry spat out: "Why the fuck are you crying? I didn't feel anything under there - thank God." Harley lets out a laugh at that, causing Harry's head to whip around to the sound of her voice. "What's with the goons and the bag Harley?"

"Aw, don't be mean to our friends sugar." Harley pouts, readjusting her grip on the baseball bat.

Harry snorts. "Sure, you all swapped friendship bracelets after exchanging death threats and money over martinis."

His sarcasm earns him a slap over the head from a still red-faced Frosty while the Joker chuckled. "You nailed it kid. But we're not here to discuss the nature of our friendships -" The Joker strolled over, and ripped the bag from the boy's head - the promise of blood in his smile. "We're here - to play a little game."

For a second, Harry looked confused - then his eyes widened with horror as his gaze flickered between the ten captives surrounded by three men with rifles, all on their knees with their hands behind their heads. As soon as they noticed the green-eyed boy, they all began to whimper and cry. The Joker rolls his eyes at the sounds; firing a bullet into the air to silence them while Harley gazes at Harry - Surprised to see the vulnerability in his eyes...

Then, they shutter - becoming cold as he glares up at Mister J. "What the fuck is this?"

"Tut, tut, language boy -" The Joker warns, wagging his finger scoldingly at Harry. "Otherwise, you forfeit, and you don't want to do that..." The Joker paused dramatically, giving Harry time to respond. He stayed silent - though his eyes managed to speak volumes. "Now, the way this game works is that I am going to put five bullets in this gun -" As he says this, the Joker opens the gun and allows the bullets at all fall out onto the floor while Harley rushed to hand him five -

She feels Harry's gaze on her the whole time she put on a show of handing over the bullets one by one - and for some odd reason her smile does not feel so bright when she places a kiss on the Joker's cheek once she's done, taking her spot beside him.

The Joker spins the chamber after placing the bullets in, then closes it, taking the safety off. He looks at Harry; his eyes wild. "And you are going to choose the order in which I shoot these fine people."

Harry's mask slipped, revealing the first sign of disgust that Harley had ever seen from him. "If I refuse?"

"Then instead of only half of them dying -" The Joker states, making his three friends raise their rifles on que, all pointed in the direction of the prisoners. Mister J grins at seeing the flicker of fear that passes over the boy's face. "They all die."

Harley watched the storm of emotions in Harry's eyes - watching each come to the surface with every passing second. Disgust, hate, fear -worry...

They seem to reflect with the lights that hung above them - all of them dimming slightly as a new emotion came to the boy's eyes.

Captivated by the sight, Harley almost misses it when his eyes meet hers - the burning feeling on the back of her neck being the only thing had tore her gaze from the lights. For a second Harley feels like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Betrayal...

A minute later, she draws in a breath and grins so wide that all her teeth show. She had never betrayed him. Her loyalty was to her Puddin and she had done nothing to show him otherwise -

Even if she had, it would have been his mistake to trust her.

Despite her resolve, her smile still fades as Harry's expression hardens before turning away from her; fists tight by his sides as he gazes at all of the prisoners: four women, five men and a child no older than ten. She sees his gaze linger on the child - another emotion breaking across the surface as the light just above her flickers quickly. It's there for only a minute before disappearing, but not until she was able to tell what it was: Determination.

"How do I know you won't shoot the ones left alive?" Harry spits out, making the Joker's smile falter. "Despite your questionable morals, I know you value your word - give me it, and I'll choose."

"You're hardly in the position - " Mister J begins, anger lacing his tone.

Harry cuts him off. "You want to 'break me' right? Well, I don't get how you're going to manage that if there was nothing I could do to save these people in the first place. Sure, you can torture me afterwards - rip me apart piece by piece - but that's only going to break me physically and knowing how your temper is - you probably won't stop until I'm dead." Harry was the one smiling now, bitter and savage as he looked at the Joker. "So,you either give me your word that you, Harley and your Hench-men won't do anything to those who live - or you won't get what you want from me."

There was a pause filled with tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. Then, Mister J acknowledged: "You've got balls kid. All right, I give you my word that I, the Joker, my Queen, and my friends will not harm any of the bastards that lady luck allows to live."

"Good." Harry says after a long moment of study, making the Joker grin and Harley let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

Instantly, the Joker makes his way towards the line-up of people: "Whose first, kid?"

Harry grits his teeth, and Harley can see the whites of his knuckles as his gaze flickers over each and every one of the people bound - Then Harry stops, his gaze meeting those of an elder man who sits silently while the others whimper behind their gags. An silent understanding seems to pass between them. With gritted teeth, Harry hisses out: "Him."

Gleefully, the Joker bounds over, aiming the gun to the back of the man's head. "You sure about this Kid?"

Harry doesn't look at him, his eyes are only on the man who - to everyone's shock - smiles.

Harley notices the lights flickering increasing, causing everyone to look up in confusion. Frowning, the Joker looks up, gun still pressed against the man's head: "What the fuck is with the lighting?"

As if to respond, the room plunges into darkness.

Instantly - the sound of a gunshot goes off - along with the sound of people getting to their feet and running. In the blackness - Harley can hear the Joker shout: "Shoot damn it! Shoot!"

There are several clicks and their men yelling: "The gun's jammed!"

Seconds later, Harley hears the sound of a rifle back-firing. She tries to see through the blackness - tries to make out the figures running, to see if any of them were Harry...

Suddenly, the lights spring to life - revealing a scene that manages to stun the Queen of Gotham. The old man was dead - a gunshot wound to the head, and so was one of their guys - bleeding out onto the floor from a hole in the middle of his chest.

Frost and his two remaining boys looked shocked, the two still trying to get their rifles to fire...

Harry hadn't moved from his spot - his green eyes expressing an emotion that simultaneously rouses Harley's anger and curiosity. Satisfaction.

As soon as her Puddin begins to turn however - his face murderous - Harry's eyes become blank, and he develops a confused expression as the King of Gotham strolls over to him - practically shaking with rage. "What the fuck did you do, kid?"

"I just choose." Harry responds with a shrug.

In reply, the Joker lets out a giggle - delivering a right hook to Harry's face. "What are you useless bastards still doing here? Go find those people!" He yells to his men as Harry spits out some blood onto the floor.

"No."

Harley freezes - as does everyone else. All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room as the Joker slowly looks down at the boy, grabbing him by his shirt collar and hauling him up so that they were nose to nose. "What did you say to me?" He growls out, voice low, deadly.

Harry narrows his eyes. "No. We had a deal - you said that if I choose, you would let anyone who lady luck allowed to live go." Harry jerks his head in the direction of the old man while the Joker's grip tightened. "I choose him - then, the lights went out and rest of them escaped. If that isn't luck, I don't know what is." He met the gaze of the Joker - the glints of steel returning to his eyes. "The game's over, Mister J. I kept my end up - now you need to keep yours."

The Joker's face was frighteningly still for a moment while Harley and the men marveled at the fact that the master of trickery had been loop-holed. Then Mister J smiles - a cold, terrifying smile. "Let's play a new game then: you said you can handle being torn apart piece by piece..." The Joker's hands closed around Harry's throat and started to squeeze. "How many can I tear you into while you're still alive?"

"Puddin." Harley spoke up as Harry let out a cough - knowing she would not get her chance to play with Harry anymore if she didn't speak up. "He needs to be punished Puddin; but I still need to break him. Torturing him won't do that - "

"I'm getting too much déjà vu from this." The Joker notes at her words, his eyes moving to his hand at Harry's throat to Harley who had stepped closer to him. "'Sides, the kid's all talk baby. He'll learn a whole new meaning of pain when I'm done with him."

A wheezing sound escaped Harry, and Harley is astonished to realize that it was a laugh. She uses it as a chance to continue: "Then let the boys play with him for a bit - but don't damage him beyond use." Harley allowed a savage smile to play up the corners of her lips. "If he really did do this - then don't ya want to figure out how?"

She sees the grip on Harry loosen a bit at her point, sees the pensive expression cross over his features. "Hm - you've got a point there, doll." The Joker acknowledges, his grip loosening a bit more to allow Harry to breath in deeply. "But whose to say he won't try another stunt if he is?" His hand closed again, though not as strongly.

"Leave that to me, Puddin." Harley tells him with a smile. That seems to be enough for the Joker, who releases Harry who falls in a heap upon the floor before being grabbed under the arms by Frost.

"You heard my Queen." The Joker tells Frost with a smile as he pulled Harley against him, hands on her ass. "You and your boys can show him some of your toys."

Harry continues to glare at them until the bag is shoved on his head - covering his intense gaze as he is dragged away.

* * *

 _ **As always - feedback is much appreciated.**_


	8. Hell

_**Holy shit...301 follows, 203 favourites, and 39 reviews...**_

 _ **Thank you guys so, so much for your wonderful feedback and I hope you continue to enjoy!**_

 **Disclaimer: _Do not own Suicide Squad or Harry Potter._**

* * *

 **Hell**

It is - with an admittedly heavy heart - that Frost chains the kid's wrists to the ceiling. Despite the fact that his balls and ego still hurt from the boy's stunt at the bank, and the kid's attitude was uncooperative on the best days - Frost had grown to, if not like, at least respect the kid for his strength of character.

A strength he and his boys were about to put to the test.

Once he's sure the bonds are secure, he removes the bag from the boy's head. Instantly - the boy glances around the dimly lit small space and those in it, not even bothering to test his bonds. When he's done his assessment he meets Frost's eyes; raising his eyebrow in an evident display of annoyance. "Really? You brought me to a tiny place filled with weapons and only one shitty light-bulb. Could you at least _try_ to be a bit more original?"

Frost can't help but let out a chuckle. "Save your sense of humor kid. You might not have any left when this is over."

A slight smirk devoid of humor curls Harry's lips: "We'll see."

To that, Frost could only nod - throwing the first punch. The boy's head swings at the contact, a bit of blood spilling from his split lip - but he makes no sound; green eyes quickly looking back at Frost in a silent dare. Frost responds by delivering three sharp punches to the boy's stomach. When Harry's body merely folds into itself slightly and the boy _still_ doesn't make a sound, Frost gestures for Buddy to come over.

They rain down on the boy furiously - only taking care to not break of puncture anything as the Queen still wanted him to be able to walk properly. By the time they pull away the boy is spitting out a fair amount of blood; his face decorated with forming bruises. To Frost's disbelief, the kid _smiles_ at them. "S' that all you've got?"

With the boss's word in mind, Buddy hands Frost a wooden baseball bat - and they begin to swing. Frost stops Buddy when he hears a few of the boy's ribs crack: "Enough." Obediently, Buddy halted mid-swing, stepping back as Frost stepped forward, brows furrowed as he assessed the kid. Burning eyes meet his unflinchingly and Frost can't help but let out a low whistle: "Jesus kid, where the fuck have you been?"

"Hell." the boy grunts out - and Frost is not quite sure what to think when he realizes there's no humor or sarcasm in Harry's voice. Then, a shiver runs down his spine as those eyes gained an edge that reminded Frost frighteningly of war Vets after they came home. "Every fucking path in it."

Frost did not reply verbally; standing to unbind the kid's wrists. The boy staggers forward when they fall down - probably having lost most feeling in them - but catches himself. The boy then proceeds to twirl his wrists and flex his fingers until he seems to get enough feeling to prod his stomach gently, only the slightest twitches revealing his pain -

As if still managing to stand wasn't fucking Wolverine enough already.

* * *

 ** _Feedback is greatly and always appreciated._**


	9. Curiosity

**Thank you all very, very much for all your feedback in any way you provided it!**

 **Hope you guys enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **Curiosity**

It killed the cat. The Joker knew this all too well. Curiosity never did anyone who wondered just who the Joker was any good -

Look what it did to Harleen Quinzel.

Granted, she came out better than most. Alive, useful and beautiful - A Queen in her own right.

When Frost told him about how the boy had barely _flinched_ at the beating he and Buddy gave him, at first he wondered if they had gone soft. Then, they presented the photo and video evidence that they had, in fact, given the kid a hard-enough time that mob bosses would be at least unable to stand - let alone _touch_ their injuries.

The Joker felt the familiar itch of wonderment when he saw that this kid did just that. That was not even factoring in statement of being in hell or the haunted look in those pretty eyes Harley loved so that Frost looked uneasy just talking about. Johnny was a tough guy - (he worked with the most feared being in Gotham) Joker would pay good money to see what's got him almost shitting in his pants.

But he didn't have to. The cause was in the photos - the defiant, _old_ green eyes managing to entice him even through photograph.

No fear. None. Not so much as a hint of it.

It was so - _refreshing._

Now, one thing must be clear - the Joker _loved_ making people's hearts stutter with fear before it stopped. He loved being the monster under the bed - the reacquiring night-terrors that had people screaming safe in their beds. He loved all of it -

What he didn't love, were the same-old _boring_ reactions.

"Please don't kill me!" "Please don't hurt me!" Cry, cry, cry - Scream, scream, scream blah,blah, blah...

Honestly - it made him actually _enjoy_ having those few idiots try to oppose him - even though their efforts were just as typical at least they were _rare._

But this kid was different -

For one: If he did pull off the whole bank mess, means he was the only one of the 'saving-people' type other than Basty to have actually - well, saved people.

Also: He was ...strange. The Joker couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't quite say when he came to the conclusion - but there was _something else_ about that kid that Harley probably saw in him from the beginning.

But he did get to have some fun with him already and the kid, strange as he was, was not worth the Joker's personal time. The bank thing was probably a fluke or a streak of luck at most - and if there is any evidence to prove otherwise, Harley will tell him about it. Over-all, the kid was just going to end up like the rest of their toys in the end - so what if he had an usually high pain tolerance? Harley had broken bigger men - scarier men than the pretty emerald eyed boy. It was just a matter of time, really.

So while the boy was curious - The Joker was not going to play the cat.

At least, not yet.

* * *

 **Feedback is greatly appreciated.**


	10. Shame

**Thank you all for all the amazing feedback!**

 **I know many people were complaining/wondering about the length of the snippets. The truth is that some are going to be longer than others, but I am pretty sure none of them will be any less than five-hundred words.**

 **Hope you guys enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **Shame**

Harry wasn't speaking to her.

A few hours after Harley had returned home alone while her Puddin continued to terrorize the streets to let off some steam - Harry was brought back to the penthouse, bruised and bloodied.

Instantly, Harley had been on her feet - prepared to help with a bag of ice and some warm soup. Harry had glared at her, really _glared_ \- his expression reminding her of when she had woken him from his nightmares. With not so much as a word to her, he brushed past her to enter his room. The door closed with a soft but firm _**click.**_

The next day, the only time she saw Harry was at meal times so that he could quietly eat his food before leaving.

She hated the silence. She hated the fact that he had not even bothered to _look_ in her direction when she tried to initiate conversation to make it less suffocating. To make him respond to her in anyway...

When he finishes washing his plate after dinner and goes to leave as she tries to tell him a joke - all control snaps. She rushes him - throwing a punch which he catches easily despite his injuries, still not looking at her.

"Look at me." She demands, a haziness filling her vision when he doesn't listen. A snarl forms on her lips as she shoved her body against his violently, free hand managing to grab at a knife that had been left on the counter _. "Look at me!"_ She screams as she swipes it at him viciously -

But the boy dodged her fevered attacks until his other hand managed to grasp that wrist. Then, he suddenly pulled her body flush against his before spinning them around in order to pin her against the fridge - some added pressure on her wrist causing the knife to clatter to the floor. Their breathes mingle as they pant heavily; Harley from undisguised surprise, Harry from anger. "All right - I'm looking Harley. I'm looking at _you:_ a spoiled, immature _brat_ throwing another temper-tantrum because I'm not acting the way you want me to." The words, though quiet, are laden with venom. It renders Harley silent; her blue eyes growing wide as he continued harshly: "I know you didn't expect me to jump around for joy after what you did - that's _why_ you did it - so what is it that's bothering you? The fact that I don't want to look at a woman who almost had a _child_ murdered for her fucking boyfriend's amusement?"

Harley felt disbelief flood through her - of all things, he was angry about the prisoners? She tries to speak - "They escaped - " only her voice comes out much quieter than she wanted it to be, much weaker.

Harry let out a growl: "Nine got lucky. One still died for _shit."_

"Yeah, the lights go out right after you choose." Harley responds, her eyes flashing as her voice rose. "Convenient luck - isn't it?"

"You were going to have them murdered for a _game!"_ Harry yells the last word - chest heaving against hers and green eyes filled with thousands of emotions as he tried to gather himself.

Harley had already lost herself. "Why the fuck do you care so much!?" She yelled back. "They're strangers - they're no-one to you!"

"Maybe not - but they are to _someone._ " Harry's voice is fierce, forceful. "Most of those people were in their thirties and twenties. What if they had kids? What if they were single parents? What do you think would have happened to those kids..."

"I don't _care."_ Harley growled, ignoring the frantic beating of her pulse and the way the words tasted like acid in her mouth...

Harry shakes his head - a new emotion coming to life as he whispered: "Yes you do. You just pretend you don't so that your boyfriend won't realize that his creation isn't as perfect as he thought it was." Harley feels the breath leave her lungs; feels the first fractures in her perfectly constructed mask - but Harry was not finished. "You're mad Harley - completely and utterly _insane_ with a love for violence. But, despite your best efforts to try to show otherwise, you are _not_ heartless. Believe me, I _know_ what it looks like."

For a moment, Harley is speechless - blue eyes ogling at Harry as he gazes down at her with... _pity._ The sight of it makes her stomach queasy. "Puddin was right, you're just all talk - no bite." Her eyes darken with anger, mustering all of it to spit out the next words: "You're a _liar."_

The boy's face became expressionless for a second, then a low, mirthless chuckle escaped him. He releases her arm, but before Harley could make a move, he shows her the back of his right hand.

Harley's breath stops; her words coming out in a stutter: "Wha -"

"You're not the first to have called me a liar - and you will not be the last that I prove _wrong."_ Harry informed her quietly; stepping back a moment later to walk away.

Harley stares at the spot he had been; feeling completely numb as she remembered the words scarred into the boy's skin:

 _ **I must not tell lies.**_

She feels sick, so she hugs her stomach - trying to banish the feeling turning her stomach to painful knots and the words from her mind all at once.

It doesn't work.

Instead, she only manages to remember her words to him and the complete _shit_ feeling increases to the point that tears fill her eyes. Dimly, she recognizes the feeling from when she and Mister J had come up with the hostage plan in the first place -

Only now she knew what it was and she wanted it to _go_ _away_ because she hated, _hated_ it _so_ much.

But the shame stayed till morning when she realized that Harry went away.

* * *

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	11. Lily

**This is AMAZING! My most favourited/followed/reviewed work of all! Thank you all!**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **Lily**

He needed to get away - he needed to _breathe_ before he did something stupid: like blow the Joker to high heaven so that he would land hard in deep hell. A part of him tries to picture doing the same to Harley, but the image is halfhearted and lacking the satisfaction that the imagined death of her boyfriend gave Harry.

Despite all her crazy possessiveness and the stunt she pulled at the bank - Harry couldn't hate the blonde woman. Not with the terrible surety that the Joker had somehow fucked with her head and now she was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome along with her general insanity.

Harry sighed, unhappy at the thought, but getting an odd comfort in hearing the way his feet hit the pavement. In this part of Gotham he could imagine he hadn't got sucked into another insane situation and was still traveling the world.

Which he would continue, the second he found out how to get out the tracker he is sure Harley had placed on him after his escape to Mexico.

Or maybe he would just go home, once he was sure Teddy was safe -

Kicking a pebble, Harry allowed himself to picture Teddy in his mind's eye with a smile. After Tonks and Remus's deaths, Harry hadn't been sure if he would be the prime choice for raising a child due to his own fucked up childhood. But - with help from Dromeda, and Teddy's all around cuteness - Harry now couldn't imagine a life without the giddy boy who loved to change his hair into a array of colours like his mother.

Caught up in his memories, Harry almost slams into the green-house that happened to be the destination of this particular alley. Taking a step back - Harry regards the green-house thoughtfully for a moment, and, after noting that nobody was around - stepped inside.

The sight that greeted him was a garden that Aunt Petunia and even Professor Sprout would be envious of.

Greenery was _everywhere._ In pots, up the walls, on the ceiling, large sections of the floor allowing for growth...It was amazing. Absolutely breathtaking. Everything was just so _alive._

It was like magic.

Harry smiles at the thought, stepping forward to observe some of the colourful exotic plants with no small amount of awe. He had always liked gardening because it had given him a reason to get out of the cupboard (away from the Dursley's and the overwhelming scent of bleach.) He loved the delicate, beautiful flowers that were the few things of beauty he had during that time. He also took great pride in the fact that it was the one thing about him that Aunt Petunia could not criticize - not when all the neighbors were telling her how lovely her garden was.

A batch of a familiar flower catches his eye, and Harry slowly makes his way over to them. He drinks in the different shades but his eyes settle on a single flower in the center, full and lovely.

Every year at the beginning of spring since he was first able to garden, hidden away from the neighbors towards the back of the house - his aunt would have him plant a single white lily. It had always been his favourite. Always his greatest joy to plant it as, to him, it was more beautiful than any other of the flowers he planted. He never understood why the neighbors were not able to see it. So, when he was seven and the lily was freshly planted, he asked.

That was how he learned his mothers name.

As he looks at the flowers Harry also entertains the notion that the white lily, despite everything she did to him and didn't do for him, was why he couldn't quite manage to hate his Aunt like he did his Uncle. Because that flower was proof that underneath all her arrogance and spite - she had loved her sister.

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, Harry got a whiff of a new scent-

A second later, Harry was running toward the green-house door even as he began to cough and his vision swim...

He practically falls against the door, tugging at the handle desperately with what little strength he feels leaving his body fast - it doesn't open. Harry falls - still coughing as he tried to summon up his magic (consequences be damned!) but to not avail...

A face framed by long, vivid red hair swims in Harry's vision; green eyes gazing down at him. Harry's eyes widen, and he tries to reach a hand out: "Mom?"

The last thing he sees are the eyes widening in shock before all goes to black.

* * *

 **A little bit of insight into Harry's thoughts - and there will be more.**

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	12. Kind

**Yeah! Thank you for all of those who provided amazing feedback and the kind words!**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **Kind**

When Harley comes up to Ivy's Greenhouse with a beeping GPS device in hand, she doesn't know what to feel. Ivy is a good-friend, and Harley knows that she wouldn't have harmed Harry if she saw the tattoo, regardless of the fact that he was a man.

But if the poison got to him before Ivy could...

Harley grits her teeth at the thought then stubbornly pushes it aside as she storms into the green-house without knocking.

The sight that greets her makes her jaw drop.

A little ways from her among the potted plants was Harry: he was wearing gardening gloves and some dirt as he _handled_ Ivy's plants...

Ok. The kid was crazy - like, suicidal crazy. Harley is still having a hard time believing what she is seeing when a familiar smokey voice teases behind her: "You always did know how to make an entrance."

Spinning around, Harley comes face-to-face with the lovely red-head and sputters while pointing towards Harry: "Red - you - he..."

"He is quite talented, isn't he?" Ivy hums, looking perfectly calm and _amused_ by Harley's dumbstruck expression. "You know - I think he's the first young man I met with an appreciation for flowers outside of handing them to women so that they can die a week later." The woman's green eyes fixate on the boy handling an orchid with tenderness.

Following her gaze, Harley feels most of her shock wear away to suspicion. "You made him immune?"

"Well - he wanted to help, and he was useful. So, yes..."

Harley cuts Ivy off. "Wait - you're letting him help you with your _babies?_ Your pride and joy? You are letting _him_ -" Here Harley jabbed her thumb in Harry's direction, her eyes narrowed as she assesses Ivy - looking for anything to show her the red-heads motives. "A man, tend your plants? Why?"

"Harry isn't most men." Ivy states after a moment, her expression strangely thoughtful and open as she looked over at the green-eyed young man.

Harley, however, was beginning to feel the familiar itch of the green monster. "What is that supposed to mean?" She tried to keep the venom in her voice to a minimum - but failed.

Ivy's eyes cut into her like a gardening spade, and a small smirk curled her lips: "What's wrong Quinn? I thought you only got like this with your _'Puddin'."_ The distaste put into that one word was evident, however the teasing lite to her voice was back as she cast her gaze over to Harry. "But if I had to pick - I'd say Harry is much, much more deserving of it just based on appearance alone. Have you _seen_ those eyes? The greenest grass can't compare -"

She sighs and Harley, despite knowing that the woman was mocking her (or perhaps for that reason) snaps: "My Puddin has green hair..."

"Yes - along with no eyebrows, a mouth that would have dentists running, and do I even have to mention his eyes?" Ivy states factually, raising an eyebrow in challenge even as she carries on. "Plus - he's way older than you - while Harry is young, and his eyebrows not only exist, but happen to be a lovely feature on his gorgeous face." Her green eyes look over to Harry on the other side of the Greenhouse; still blissfully oblivious to their conversation.

Harley follows her gaze, taking in the way the light touched his mess of dark hair and the greenery around made his eyes seem even brighter. He looked...lovely, even in his peace. "You just say that because he hasn't opened his mouth." The blonde states with a huff, meeting Ivy's eyes.

Actually, he has." Ivy stated, surprising Harley. "And I have found him to be quite...kind."

"Kind?" Harley repeats, not quite believing that _word_ was escaping her lips.

Ivy shrugs. "Yes; kind."

"No one is kind here, Ivy." Harley snorts after a long moment, thinking this must be some sort of joke Red was playing on her. "They wouldn't survive. That's what you told me."

"Yet here he is, breathing." Ivy says thoughtfully, making the laughter die on Harley's lips.

Despite the uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach, the blonde manages to scoff. "He's a sarcastic little shit..."

"He thought I was his mom." Ivy tells her - the sudden and strange statement causes the breath to leave Harley's lungs for a moment. Before she can gain it back, Ivy is speaking with a very thoughtful and (Harley is stunned to see) almost _soft_ expression. "I was going to kill him at first. But, before he lost consciousness from the poison, he called me mom. You should have seen his face Harley. He looked so young. So hopeful and desperate...He looked at me like I was the whole world. I couldn't kill him - I didn't want to." The red-head shrugs in an attempt to look indifferent, but Harley can't quite manage to close her mouth. Ivy's next words don't help this problem. "When he woke up - he realized I wasn't _her_ almost right away. But - he still told me my greenhouse was amazing."

Ivy looks quite pleased at this fact - but Harley was never one who was afraid to rain on other's parade. "So? What does that have to do with _kindness?"_ Harley makes sure to spit the word out; puts all her contempt and fury into it...

Ivy merely sighs, offering a slight smile. "Oh Harley - you know as well as I do that people who have gained hope only to have it taken away in a split second will not forgive those who have, unintentional or not, taken it away."

"But he did." Harley whispers, all the fight leaving her body as her eyes move to linger on Harry.

Ivy hums. "Yes..." Her voice suddenly becomes strangely sharp: "So don't let your Puddin' lay a finger on him."

"What?" Harley demanded, her voice rising in disbelief and anger only to be cut off.

"He's destroyed pretty much everything good in this city - then built it all back up only so that he could raze it again." Ivy snaps heatedly, inclining her head in Harry's direction. "I don't want that to happen to Harry."

Disbelief floods through Harley at the ferocity in Ivy's voice as she _defends_ Harry. The kid had been there for maybe an hour! Not to mention that Ivy hated most men on principle as they tended to kill her babies - or at least, she used to. Harley scowls, even if Red was for some reason deciding to make Harry an exception to her rules, that didn't mean she got the right to break some of Harley's. "You can't tell me..."

"Yes I can tell you. Sure, you don't have to listen - but you will." Ivy says calmly. Her gaze suddenly making Harley feel uncomfortably exposed. "He would have been dead by now if you really still wanted to break him; tossed away like a toy that wouldn't quite work how you wanted it to. Wouldn't he have, Harley?

To that, Harley has no answer.

* * *

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	13. Clothes

**Oh yeah! Over seven hundred followers! Thank you for all of those who provided amazing feedback and the kind words!**

 **Oh and two things, one: there is a poll on my profile asking about who you guys ship in this story – just for fun. Two: I was thinking of writing a separate story with all the previous chapters not written in Harry's prospective form his and perhaps add some others because it would be too messy to add in here. What do you guys think?**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **Clothes**

When Harley presents Harry with bags of clothes she had ordered, he gazes at them with something akin to shock. He stands there for several minutes - pretty eyes wide as he gazes at the bags but makes no move to touch them.

Harley raises an eyebrow. "What're you waiting for, sugar? Check them out!"

That seems to jolt Harry from it, his hands reaching in the first bag to pull out a nice dark green button down shirt - the exact colour of his eyes. The boy marvels at it, touching the fabric gently before looking up at Harley: "This is for me?"

"Of course it's for you, sugar." Harley tells him, a slight frown tugging down her lips at the way the boy's voice sounded - not at all like the sarcastic cool detachment or even the rare kind words she was used to. It sounded almost – _vulnerable._

Dismissing the thought, Harley allows her lips to stretch into a wide smile: "The clothes you had didn't even fit you right! Plus, you can't keep using Frost's men's hand-me-downs."

Despite this explanation, the boy's gaze still flickers from Harley to the button down shirt with something very much like disbelief. Finally he focuses on Harley, swallowing for some reason before speaking: "Why though?"

"Why what?" Harley inquires, tilting her head with curiosity.

Harry licks his lips, his grip on the shirt tightening, just slightly. "Why don't you want me using hand-me-downs? I mean -" He trails off, and Harley is stunned by the uncertainty in the young man's voice – how young he suddenly seems. "This looks like it cost a lot of money – and I know you didn't steal it..."

"Money isn't an issue." Harley says airily, waving her hand as though to swipe the idea away. (because while she did not steal the clothes – the money is an entirely different story) "Besides, I don't want our guest in clothes that don't fit."

Harry snorts slightly at the word 'guest' but surprisingly does not make a comment. Instead, his emerald eyes flicker back up to meet hers from under long lashes and he bites his lip; his thumb running over the material of the shirt gently.

For the first time ever, his expression is similar to many men who laid eyes upon her. But of course, one significant thing is different.

There is no lust in the boy's eyes; no hunger. Just something that looks like gratitude over something as insignificant as a cotton button down shirt. And – Harley likes it. She likes this, devil forbid, _innocence._

It warms something in Harley's chest; tugs at heartstrings she thought no longer existed.

"Thank you." Harry says sincerely , and the warmth in Harley's chest expands.

She smiles, gesturing for him to go through the bags. "No problem sugar. Take a look and try it on for me - I want to see how you look!"

The boy nods, his eyes brightened - and Harley thinks she sees the slightest tug on the right corner of his mouth as he goes to do what she's asked.

* * *

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	14. Not Allowed

_**Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**_

 _ **I was thinking of writing a separate story with all the previous chapters not written in Harry's prospective from his and perhaps add some others because it would be too messy to add in here. What do you guys think?**_

 **Disclaimer:** _ **I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **Not Allowed**

Harley coughs, feeling shattered glass beneath her palms as she struggled to get up. A loud, piercing ringing in her ears as she struggled to remember what had happened.

Then she remembers.

 _She had convinced Mista J to let Harry come with them to the club tonight with the point that the boy couldn't prove himself if he was cooped up in the Penthouse all the time. As a precaution, the boy's head was bagged so that if he did manage to slip away he could not tell anyone of their whereabouts._

 _Harry had stuck close to her, looking quite uncomfortable in the midst of all the dancing bodies -_

 _Girls had called out to him: "Hey handsome!"_ _He had blushed furiously while Harley felt a sudden surge of anger that made her give the girls a glare that had them scampering away._

 _She had led him to the bar where they both drowned shots of whiskey._

 _Then, one of Harley's favorite songs came on. "Dance with me!" She implored, grabbing the boy's hand despite his protests and leading him onto the dance-floor._

 _She had wrapped her arms around his neck and started to sway - His hands stayed safely on her waist, their bodies inches apart, and when the song picked up tempo he raised his eyebrows and started to twirl her making her laugh in delight._

 _It was different, silly compared to the grinding and roaming hands going on around them -_

 _Harley loved it._

 _Harry pulls her back in and dips her, his eyes sparkling and beginning to crinkle at the sides -_ _Then he sees something behind them and his eyes widen -_

 _Before Harley can think, Harry's grabbing her and running past people , yelling for them to take cover, to get out- shoving Harley to the ground behind the bar, shielding her with his body and he took something long and thin from his sleeve-_

 _People start to scream a second later -_

 _There was the sound of an explosion - of glass breaking and people burning ..._

Now there was ringing silence. Harry was nowhere in sight.

"Harry?" Harley whispers, lifting her head to glance around the scene mostly obscured by a cloud of dust. Her blue eyes widen when she gets no response, ignoring the broken shards of glass that cut into her skin as she struggles to her feet. "Harry!"

She can now hear men talking, can hear Mista J shouting in fury...

She should call out - she should tell him she's fine.

But she is numb, as the cloud resides to show the wreckage of bodies. Some groan in pain; some are still

So much blood. More blood than she had ever seen...

The sight doesn't excite her - doesn't bring a mad grin to her face like it should have. Harley feels hollow, sick -

That was nearly her. It still should have been her by the way most only a few feet from her are at least injured on a greater scale than she is. The bar is a disaster zone – broken bottles and splintered wood. Yet all she has are a few scratches.

The thought makes some of the haze to fall away to be replaced with new terrifying fear - Some of that blood could be Harry's. Her eyes scan the bodies with more intensity, more care. Trying not to miss that head of messy black hair -

She steps from behind the bar and nearly steps on something - a stick , held by a tan hand...

Harley doesn't know what this feeling is. This aching, horrible feeling that squeezes her heart as she sees him lying there - looking so much younger than he normally did with his pretty eyes shut...

She just knows she doesn't like it.

"Harry." She whispers as she stumbles closer to him, falling to her knees to check for a pulse (something a Queen should never do - something Harley doesn't give two shits about right now).

It flutters beneath her fingers. She chokes on something - and her hands grip his hair, holding onto the soft strands desperately: "Harry..." As if in response the young man lets out a groan - his green, green eyes fluttering open to meet Harley's.

His words steal her breath.

"You Ok?" He gasps out, his eyes suddenly alert as he saw the cuts on her arms and face, struggling to sit up despite her protests. "Let me see - "

He groans, falling back against her chest, clutching the stick to his chest...that's when Harley notices the shard of glass sticking from his abnorman.

"Harry...Sugar..." Harley mummers in horror.

The boy grimaces. "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing..."

"Nothing!" Harley hisses furiously, her glare making Harry wince.

Before he can open his mouth to say anything more stupid, however, Mista J's voice cut through the silence like a gun-shot. "HARLEY!"

The madness in his voice made even Harley cringe, but she shouted back without tearing her gaze from Harry: "I'M FINE PUDDIN, JUST A LITTLE SHOCKED. I'M AT THE BAR." She pauses, looking at the shard in Harry's stomach as she adds. "HARRY SAVED MY LIFE."

There is a pause - then the sound of rushing feet. A minute later, Harley finds herself in the arms of her Puddin - who clutched so tight she winced. "Thank the devil." Mista J whispered, smelling her hair greedily before his gaze turned to the boy lying on the ground. "Or - thank, the boy - I guess."

Harry clenched his jaw, probably biting back a sharp retort. "No problem. I've always had a -" He pauses, a strange light coming to his eyes as he repeated words Harley remembers from their first meeting. "Saving people thing."

"Hm..." Mista J said, looking at the boy intensely. "Well - I'm goin' to have this mess cleaned up -" Harley sees the way Harry's face darkens at the word 'mess'. Thankfully, Mista J doesn't - "Get you stitched up, my new friend and then we will discuss your new position."

"Position?" Harry repeats, his expression showing his confusion.

The Joker grins. "I don't typically like people with a - how'd you put it? 'Saving People Thing' They usually get in the way of my business and just _really_ piss me off. But you - lucky, lucky _you_ \- have proven yourself to be useful. So..." The Joker lets go of Harley in favour of rubbing his hands together excitedly. "You're going to be my doll's new body-guard."

He pauses, as if expecting a big cheer. Harry merely blinks. "Um - Thanks."

"C'mon kid, I'm offering a great opportunity you can try to sound more cheerful." The Joker probes, his smile wide, eyes glinting manically.

Harry clenches his jaw, but Harley sends him a warning look that he thankfully - thankfully understands. The boy allows his lips to curl up just slightly. "Thank you, Mister J. This is the opportunity of a life-time."

"Ah - much better!" The Joker exclaims, clapping his hands before looking back at Harley. "Why don't ya get Frosty to take you and him to get stitched up, toots. I'll handle everything here."

"If you're sure Puddin." Harley says with a smile, giving him a kiss before he left, yelling orders to his men. She then turned to Harry, whose expression is unreadable even as she goes to help him up.

 _H~H_

The drive back to the Penthouse is silent, with Harry holding a handkerchief against the shard of glass still in his stomach to reduce blood loss with one hand while the other is clutched by Harley. As they get closer and closer to their destination, Harley's grip steadily becomes tighter as the shock wears away to the realization that Harry had nearly died today.

It isn't pleasant.

Looking over at him, Harley drinks in the hard set of Harry's jaw, his tousled hair and the way his green eyes fixate on the streets outside...

They look lost. Haunted.

She wonders how _he_ \- a twenty year old at most with no criminal record they were able to dig up- saw the bomb when none of the top crime bosses in Gotham couldn't.

Harley's grip tightens.

Harry - strangely enough - makes no move to pull away.

 _H~H_

Upon arriving at the Penthouse, the Queen is immediately taken care of. Bandages, hot chocolate, sweets all provided before Harry, the one with a damn shard of glass sticking in his stomach, is even brought to lie down.

Some broken furniture and a gun aimed at someone's head is quick to remedy that.

As he sleeps due to several drugs forced into him so he would get some sleep, Harley sits on his bed with her knees drawn to her chest and gazes down at his face with a strange feeling welling in her chest. Her eyes trace over the bandages on his chest and the scattering of old scars before flickering back up to his face. "You're not allowed to die." She whispers to the still boy, her voice choked. "I won't let you, you suicidal bastard."

Harley refuses to acknowledge the burning behind her eyes or the implications of her words.

* * *

 _ **For those wondering, the blast was strong enough to cause a bloody scene for those nearest to the bomb and blast the people further away pretty far. With the little time Harry had, he was able to cast a pretty powerful shield charm on Harley and brought her behind the bar so that she wouldn't be thrown by the blast - because the shield charm wouldn't be able to quite stop that effect, he also cast a quick charm on those nearest to him, but not himself.**_

 **Feedback is greatly appreciated.**


	15. Caring

_**To make up for my long**_ ** _absence, here's another - sadly shorter snippet._**

* * *

 **Caring**

One of Frost's men found themselves making their way to the afterlife after demanding why Joker had placed Harley's new pet as her long-needed body guard instead of someone more qualified.

While it was a fair question, one the Joker was happy to answer, he didn't like the guy's tone. The one where all he could hear was: _'I know better than you.'_ So, he shut it up, then proceeded to explain to the other men who knew better than to even spare a glance to their fallen comrades cooling corpse.

It was quite simple really; somewhere along the line, the kid actually came to _care_ about Harley – which gave the Joker an excellent way to make sure his Queen stayed alive when they got in a messy situation and possibly give him a fool-proof way to get rid of the kid.

After all, with all the shit they got into, there was no way the kid would survive a month in his new position.

It's not that he hated the kid – hell, the Joker couldn't really care enough to muster up such emotion – but there was something about him that just _rubbed him the wrong way._ The kid had been with them for over a month

and sure, Harley had kind of gotten to the kid by making him care about her – but he wasn't _broken_ , he wasn't _on his knees._

It wasn't _funny._

And while he knew Harley wouldn't be happy to have her newest toy taken away – she would get over it eventually by finding someone more interesting and more easily breakable. Because while the kid may have made the mistake of caring for Harley, the Joker was more than confident that his Queen didn't feel any similar emotions towards the green-eyed young man.

She was smarter than that.

* * *

 ** _Feedback, in the any form from questions, concerns to compliments, are much appreciated._**


	16. The Art of Protecting Your Family

_**Thank you guys so, so much for all your feedback and support!**_

 _ **Important notes at the end!**_

 _ **Takes place through-out the fic.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: Do not own Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.**_

* * *

 **The Art of Protecting Your Family**

He sends the letters.

Every two weeks in the dark of night, he casts muffliato around the room and a locking charm on the door. He lets in the owl tapping on his window in Harley's Penthouse and attaches five shrunk letters to its leg: One for Hermione, one for Ron, one for George, one for Luna and one for Teddy and Dromeda.

They all say relatively the same thing, that he is still in the United States and he is doing fine. He mentions that he has met some nice people (well, true enough for Harley and Frost – he just forsake the insanity bit) and he is staying with them for the time being. (He's not going to risk a complete lie, because knowing Hermione she would see through it soon enough.)

He asks Ron how his Aurror Training is going, Hermione about the bill for the rights of magical creatures (which Luna is helping her with) Luna how the hunt for crumple horned snorkack's is going, George how the joke shop is running and Dromeda about how Teddy is.

 _ **Is he alright? Is he happy?**_

This is easy enough – writing the letters and sending them away. He doesn't feel the guilt or fear creeping up on him -

The replies from Ron, Hermione, Luna and George make him smile, keep the worries at bay. They are doing fine, even though Aurror training is a nightmare at times and the politicians are infuriating and sometimes loneliness creeps up once the joke-shop has closed and their is no one else to laugh with.

It is always Dormeda's that makes the smile waver, that makes the young man blink back tears.

 _ **He misses you.**_

The guilt comes then, but it does not consume him until he forces himself to set fire to those letters then banish the ashy remains. It claws at his stomach, leaves him cold even as he burrows under the blankets.

Every time he writes a new letter he almost says that he will be home soon...

But he sees through that lie all too well.

So, he grits his teeth and asks questions instead while asking Remus and Tonks for forgiveness. One day, he sees a plush wolf in the store window and goes in to buy it without a second thought. Harley followed him into the store with a grin, almost unrecognizable without her crazy clothes and makeup – asking teasingly if he had any kids she should know about. Harry had swallowed, gripping the wolf protectively to his chest – not able to respond. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harley's smile fall and her eyebrows furrow in confusion as her eyes flickered between the wolf and his face. Strangely enough though, she doesn't ask about it – only pulls him to her next clothing store of choice.

That night he sends the wolf to Teddy, with the statement that his name is Moony and he will be watching over him for Harry.

He cannot bring himself to burn the picture Dorema sends him of Teddy clutching the wolf to his chest protectively – his hair a messy black. He tucks it in his pockets, keeps it on him always...

 _ **Tell him I miss him too.**_

But Harry still doesn't leave – because he knows that at least this way, where he stays with Harley until her interest fades, he has a chance at seeing him again.

* * *

 ** _All right - I have received many questions about this story, so to prevent some of you from continuing to read a story you might not like the out-come of I will set some things straight._**

 ** _1\. Harry and the Joker will not be getting along. The way Harry is in this fanfic is pretty close to cannon with the exception of the fact that he is more powerful and a bit more cynical of the Wizarding World as you will see later. The only reason why he was really helping to reconstruct the whole place was in memory of his loved ones who died fighting for that world. That being said, Harry would not like the Joker's disregard for life because of those he lost to a man like that and the Joker would just find Harry to be an annoying little shit at best and a possible threat at worst to his Empire. (The Joker doesn't work with people - he mostly uses them.) T_** ** _hey're ideals will never match. Why does he get along with Harley then? Because Harley has actually proven herself to have something of a conscious and Harry mostly blames the Joker for fucking with her head for her more violent episodes. (He still has his hero complex.)_**

 ** _2\. Now, I know I'm probably going to get some hate for this but I'm just going to say it how it is: The Joker's and Harley's relationship is not the best even in the Suicide Squad movie. The Joker loves Harley like a possession - like a trophy that he can shine just the way he likes it - not as a person. And while people might argue that he went back for her - I can argue that he left her to get captured by Batman in the first place and only went looking for her after he realized _****_she was a valuable (useful) asset to him. Now is there some love there? Maybe. But it's not a healthy kind of love - not the kind of love Harley really wants. Honestly, I just think she's staying with him because she doesn't think she has much of an option (which is greatly supported in the comics.)_**

 ** _How does Harry come into that? Well, he presents the option that other people can love her (and not just romantically.) He also is, as Ivy said, kind. And Harley is not used to kindness._**

 ** _3\. We will be going into Suicide Squad soon, probably within the next couple of chapters._**

 ** _4\. That being said, the snippets may start to be out of order from here on out to get things moving. There will also be arcs added, which I will tell you guys at the very top before each snippet._**

 ** _Now, I know some of you guys will not be completely satisfied with these answers, so if you want more clarification you are welcome to PM me or - if you are a guest - leave another review and I will address it in the next chapter._**

 ** _Other than that, as always I would appreciate some feedback._**


	17. AUTHOR's NOTE! PLEASE READ!

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: NOT AN UPDATE.**

 **First, I would like to apologize to all my readers for not posting this sooner, I really have no excuse except for school and laziness and other plot bunnies dancing in my head.**

 **But, I am happy to inform you all that this story is not going on Hiatus - and I actually have been rewriting a bit of the plot and earlier chapters. That said, I will be posting the first chapter of the rewritten version of** ** _"Under My Skin"_** **under the name** ** _"Emeralds Are Tougher Than Diamonds"_** **Before I take down the old version I want you all to be able to find it and let me know what you think about the changes (I personally prefer the newer version.)**

 **The way the new version will be setup will be more in the form of drabbles that happen all over the place so that way you guys actually get to see some** ** _Suicide Squad_** **action (I actually already have some written!) There will be some arcs and I will inform you guys around which time each drabble takes place in the beginning of the chapter except for the first which will be a stable starting ground.**

 **Updates will happen whenever possible - but I am very sorry for not informing you guys of this sooner.**

 **Thank you all for your patience, and I hope to see you at the updated version of the story.**


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